Life Isn't Always What It Seems
by Josu
Summary: What if there was more to Peter and Neal's past then even they realized.
1. Chapter 1

Just when you think you've got everything figured out, something or someone comes along and throws everything off course. No slash.

Disclaimer: I do not own White Collar

...

Elizabeth sat at the table next to Neal, the two were eating breakfast as they waited for Peter to finish getting ready and join them.

Neal shoved a large spoonful of Frosted Flakes into his mouth, "Why doesn't Peter like to talk about his family?" Some milk slipped out the corner of his mouth before he swallowed the mouthful of sugary goodness.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at the overgrown child sitting across the table from her, a smile lighting up her face at his attempt to talk with his mouth full. "He doesn't talk about me?"

Neal's eyes widened, "Oh, no. All the time, trust me." Neal winked, causing Elizabeth to smile again. "What I meant was, his parents, where he grew up." Neal shrugged before getting another bite of cereal.

Elizabeth took a slow drink of her coffee as she stared across the table at her husband's partner. "He didn't have an easy childhood, Neal."

"Who did?" Neal asked in all honesty.

Elizabeth gave a sad smile and shrugged her shoulders. "His parents argued a lot before they separated and then there was his brother."

Neal looked at her eyes wide. "Peter has a brother?"

"He did."

Elizabeth was cut off from continuing by the sound of heavy footsteps coming down the stairs, a moment later Peter rounded the corner into the kitchen and stopped when he saw Neal.

"Why am I not surprised, Caffrey?"

Neal gave Peter a bright smile. " You told me to meet you here."

Peter leaned over and gave his wife a kiss and then looked at his watch. "It's barely 7, I told you to meet me at 8 and by the looks of it." He pointed a finger at the bowl of cereal Neal was eating. "I'd say you've been here more than a few minutes."

"Haven't you ever heard that early is on time and on time is late?" Neal raised an eyebrow at Peter as he took a seat at the table.

Neal unfolded the morning newspaper and raised it as a barrier between him and Nate. "Then always feel free to be late when meeting me in the morning, Caffrey."

Elizabeth laughed and then got up from the table. "Your breakfast is on the stove." She motioned towards the bacon and eggs. "Be nice to each other while I'm upstairs getting ready."

"I think we can manage." Neal said with a wink and a grin as Elizabeth disappeared around the corner.

Peter cleared his throat as he lay the paper aside and got up to get his breakfast from the stove. "You want anything else, Caffrey?" Peter asked with obvious annoyance.

Neal thought for a moment, "How about some toast?"

Peter sighed as he grabbed his plate of eggs and a couple pieces of extra toast and made his way back to the table.

He handed Neal the extra pieces of toast and then grabbed the jelly that Elizabeth had used for her breakfast and unscrewed the lid. He stopped when he saw Neal staring at him, he rolled his eyes and then slid the knife he had grabbed across the table and then picked up the one Elizabeth had been using earlier.

Their knives clinked together as they both put them into the jar at the same time. "You couldn't wait, Caffrey?"

Peter shot Neal an annoyed look over the jelly jar.

Neal smiled as he removed his knife and smothered the jelly onto his toast, Peter doing the same in the seat next to him.

Neither of the men noticed as Elizabeth watched them silently from the doorway a hand over her mouth to keep herself from laughing.

The room was silent for the next several seconds as both men continued to lavishly pile jelly onto their toast.

Peter and Neal simultaneously folded their bread together, crumbs falling to the table from the toasted treat. They both reached over and ran a pinky along the folded bread to catch the jelly before it dripped to the table, licked their fingers and then both took a large bite from the jelly sandwich.

Peter nodded," That is good."

Neal nodded in understanding. " I love, love pineapple jelly."

"So does Peter." Elizabeth said, bringing the attention to her as she tried to hide her shock at what she had just seen. Her and Peter had been married for years and they weren't even that in sync with each other.

Peter turned towards his wife, "I thought you'd be in the shower by now."

She stared for a moment longer at the two men in front of her before shaking her head and making her way towards the coffee pot. "I wanted to make sure there was a fresh pot of coffee." She winked at Neal, "Because someone drank most of it this morning."

"Wonder who that was." Peter mumbled after shoving a spoonful of eggs into his mouth.

Elizabeth smiled and placed a kiss on top of her husband's head. "Have a good day, I'll see you tonight."

"Bye, Neal." She waived and then disappeared out of the room.

"What's tonight?" Neal asked with curiosity, a smile beginning to curve the corners of his mouth.

Peter's face grew red, "Nothing." He jabbed his spoon in Neal's direction. "Finish your cereal so we can go interview that witness, we've got a case to solve."

...

-There is actually a plot to this story and more than one case to be solved. So please let me know if you want me to continue.-


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks to my beta Pikeru's Angel

Disclaimer: I still own nothing.

...

"Where was the robbery at?" Neal asked as he and Peter climbed into the back seat of the taxi cab.

"The Museum of Modern Art." Peter said to Neal as well as the taxi driver. The older, balding man in the front seat nodded and the car pulled forward slowly.

Neal nodded and leaned back against the seat as the sky finally let loose with a gush of rain, a streak of lightning flashing in the distance. "Founded in 1929 by a group of private collectors, it has six collecting departments."

"Been there before?" Peter asked with a knowing smile.

"Yeah." Neal let out a deep breath, as if recalling a painful memory, "I went there a lot when I was kid."

Peter's face scrunched up in confusion, but before he could ask his question his cell phone started ringing from his coat pocket.

Peter brought the phone to his ear, "Jones, what did you get for me?"

Neal's mind drifted as Peter talked to the other agent on the phone. He stared out the window at the passing scenery and remembered his last trip to this museum as a child.

_A young blonde haired woman walked through the gallery holding the hand of her four year old son. She bent down to the floor so that she was at his level, wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pointed to the painting in front of them. "See how beautiful that painting is, Angel." _

"_Yeah, Momma." The little boy whispered, he didn't really understand what the painting was, but the colors were pretty and it sure made his momma happy._

_The woman's watch started beeping, startling both her and the boy. The little boy frowned as he was ushered towards the exit by his mother, "Come on, we need to get home before your father does."_

_He started to whine before remembering who else might be there. "Will Bubba be there?"_

_She stopped walking and stared down at her son with a small smile. "Your brother has to work tonight." She tapped him on the nose, "But he should be home before you go to bed." _

_The watch beeped again._

_The mother picked up her little boy and rushed through the exit. "We need to get home right now, Love."_

Neal was jolted out of his memory by Peter tapping him on the shoulder. "You with me, Caffrey?"

"Yeah," Neal nodded, blinking away the images. "What did Jones have to say?"

Peter eyed him critically for a moment as the taxi pulled up to the museum. "Just that the painting that was stolen was painted by Henri Matisse."

"Do we have any clues?" Neal asked as they climbed out of the vehicle.

Peter shook his head. "Nothing yet." He slapped Neal on the back affectionately, "but that's why we have you."

They entered the building and were immediately greeted by a tall, dark haired man. "My name is Jeffery Lethan." He reached out and shook hands with Peter and Neal. "I'm the floor manager and am in charge of the area where the Matisse painting was stolen."

"What painting was actually stolen?" Peter and Neal asked at the same time and then rolled their eyes, also in unison.

"It's called, The Woman Reading."

"I thought that was sitting in a museum in Paris." Neal asked as the three men made their way to where the painting had been hanging.

"It was on special display for the first few weeks of this month." Mr. Lethan replied as he ran a shaky hand through his thinning hair.

Peter and Neal shared a knowing look; they both knew that the job of the man standing before them was hanging in the balance.

"We're going to need to see security footage, as well as a list of names of all employees that had access to this area."

Mr. Lethan nodded. "Follow me."

Two hours later Peter and Neal entered the FBI offices and took a seat in Peter's office. Neal leaned back in the chair and placed his feet on Peter's desk. "It has to be an inside job, Peter."

Peter shoved Neal's feet off his desk before taking a seat in his own chair. "How do you know it's not one of your friends?"

Neal smiled, "I didn't say that it wasn't." He pointed a finger in Peter's direction, "But whoever it was definitely had help from the inside."

Peter leaned back and put his feet up on his desk and smiled at Neal's scowl. "And why do you think that?"

Neal shrugged. "It doesn't feel right."

Peter gave him a doubtful look.

Neal raised a hand. "I used to do this for a living, Peter." He watched as Peter rolled his eyes but waved for him to continue. "It just doesn't feel professional."

"You think it was the manager, Mr. Lethan?"

Neal shook his head, "Not necessarily. But I think we definitely need to speak to anyone else who was working that night."

"I agree." The chair squeaked as Peter shifted his feet to the floor. "But, this can wait until after we eat lunch."

Neal shot up from his chair at the mention of food. "Sounds like a plan, Peter."

Peter smiled and walked around his desk, "You're buying."

Neal's smile faded. "Alright, but we eat where I want too."

()()()()()White()()()()Collar()()()()

"Elizabeth, you needed to see me?"

Elizabeth looked up at her long time friend, Nancy, who was standing in the doorway to her office.

"Yes." Elizabeth smiled as she pushed her work away. "I need a tiny favor." She grinned and held her fingers about an inch apart.

Nancy entered her friend's office, closing the door behind her as she sat down in the vacant seat across from Elizabeth's desk.

"Ok. I'll do what I can."

Elizabeth smiled. "I know." She opened her desk drawer, pulling out a picture before sliding it across her desk.

Nancy leaned forward and picked up the picture. It was old, looking slightly yellow with age, with burn marks around the edges. She flipped the picture over and read the names on the back. "Peter age 16 and Paul age 4."

"Is this your Peter?"

Elizabeth nodded. "It is."

Nancy stared at Elizabeth, a look of concern and confusion flickering on her face. "What are you asking me to do, honey?"

Elizabeth looked down at her desk as she played with a strand of hair that dangled down in front of her face. She took a deep breath, "I need you to try and find Peter's brother."

Nancy sat back in her seat. "Does Peter know you're doing this?"

"No, he has no idea."

Nancy chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, as if in thought. "What can you tell me about him?"

Elizabeth blew out a relieved breath. "I don't know much, I usually can't get Peter to talk about him for very long." She cleared her throat. "He has a different father then Peter, so he probably has a different last name, but I could never get Peter to open up about it." She finished with a note of sadness.

"I'm sure Peter has looked high and low for his brother. Why do you think I'll have any better luck finding him?"

Elizabeth nervously tapped her nails on the desk. "I don't know that you can. But, you do have different contacts and a higher level of clearance at the Bureau." Elizabeth shrugged, "I know it's a long shot, but I need to try for Peter's sake."

Nancy stood up from her seat, placing the picture carefully into her purse. "I'm assuming you'll need this picture back ASAP?"

Elizabeth nodded. "Definitely."

Nancy smiled. "I'll have my assistant drop it off to you this afternoon." She laid her hand gently on her stomach, grimacing slightly. "How about we grab some lunch and do some catching up?"

Elizabeth grinned and grabbed her purse. "That would be lovely."


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you to my beta Pikeru's Angel.

Sorry for the wait, I hope you enjoy : )

….

_16 year old Peter pulled into the driveway of the house he shared with his mother, stepfather and little brother after working a six hour shift at the local pizza shop. It was just after nine when he turned off the headlights and stepped out of his car, he stopped when he saw a small figure sitting on the porch swing._

"_Paul?" He whispered as he stepped up onto the porch, kneeling down next to his brother. "What are you doing out here, Buddy?"_

_The little boy, decked out in his Batman pajamas, turned sad eyes towards his brother. "They're fighting again, Bubba." _

_Peter nodded as he heard the yelling going on between the adults inside the house. He took a seat next Paul on the swing. "How long has that been going on for?"_

_Paul shrugged. "It woke me up."_

_Peter sighed as he mentally calculated the time Paul usually went to bed around 8:30. The fighting had probably started not long after._

"_You're late." Paul whispered as he scooted closer to Peter and laid his head on his brother's shoulder. "Momma said you'd be home before I went to bed."_

_Peter smiled as he reached over, scooping up the little boy next to him and settled him on his lap. "I had to stay over at work." He looked down when his little brother shivered in the cool spring air. He reached behind him on the porch swing and pulled the worn, ratty blanket around them both._

"_That better?" He asked as he brushed away the stray hairs on Paul's forehead and then propped his feet onto the stool in front of him. _

_The four year old nodded, his head now resting comfortably against his older brother's shoulder. "We went to the museum today." Paul said through a yawn._

_Peter smiled. Even at the young age of four, his brother loved art. "What did you see?" _

"_A woman."_

_Peter snickered, his head was resting against the house behind him and his eyes were closed as the swing glided softly back and forth, lulling both brothers slowly to sleep. _

"_What was this woman doing?"_

"_Reading." Paul tiredly mumbled._

_Peter smiled. "Sounds exciting."_

"_It had lots of pretty colors." There was a brief moment of silence. "It made Momma happy."_

_Another loud shout came from inside the house and Peter pulled Paul closer to him. "Try and get some sleep, Paul."_

"_Bubba?" _

_Peter cracked an eye open to look down at his brother. "Yeah, buddy." _

"_Promise you're never going to leave."_

_Something shattered inside the house, causing both boys to jump. Peter lightly kissed the top of his brother's head, "I'm not leaving, I promise." _

"Peter, wake up!"

Elizabeth shook her husband's shoulder once again, just barely getting out of the way as he shot straight up in bed.

She turned on the lamp on the nightstand and laid a hand on her husband's back; he was sweating and breathing heavily. "What were you dreaming about?" She asked, gently rubbed her hand up and down his back.

Peter rubbed his hand over his eyes turning around and looking at the alarm clock. It was five-thirty in the morning. He pulled the blankets back, ignoring Elizabeth's question and stepped out of the bed.

Elizabeth shook her head. "You were calling for him."

Peter froze as he placed one arm into his robe. "Who?"

"Paul." She watched the pained expression come over her husband's face, but knew she needed to continue. "You kept saying you were sorry."

Peter tried to ignore her again, but Elizabeth reached out and grabbed her husband's hand as he tried to walk past her to the bathroom. "Tell me what happened, Peter." She saw the indecision in his eyes. "Please."

"El." Peter began, but couldn't get any farther than that in his explanation. He took a deep breath and looked at his loving, caring wife. "We left him." He pointed a finger towards his chest. "I left him." He pulled his hand out of Elizabeth's grasp and walked towards the doorway of the bathroom and turned around, a sad smile on his face. "I promised him I would never leave, and I did."

Peter turned around, walked into the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind him.

()()()()()()()()()()()()

Elizabeth opened the front door to find Neal covering himself with an umbrella, trying to shield himself from the torrential downpour.

She smiled. "Come in." She stepped aside as Neal walked passed her and laid the umbrella against the wall.

Elizabeth took Neal's jacket for him, shaking it out before hanging it on the hook. She grabbed her own and shrugged into it and then reached over to the side table and grabbed her purse.

"You're leaving already?" Neal looked at his watch, noticing it was barely seven o'clock.

Elizabeth smiled and nodded. "We had an early morning." She nodded to the kitchen before placing a hand on Neal's arm, "Don't give him too much trouble today, alright?"

"I won't."

Neal grabbed onto Elizabeth's arm before she could get out the door. "Why don't you take this?" He shoved the umbrella into her hands.

"No, I don't want to take your umbrella." She tried to hand it back to Neal.

Neal smiled. "Don't worry, it's not mine."

Elizabeth gave him an inquisitive look.

"I _borrowed_ it from your husband earlier this week."

Elizabeth laughed, her mood lightening slightly at Neal's remark. "Thanks for returning it, Neal." She shook her head, stepped outside and closed the door behind her.

Neal took a deep breath, turned around and started walking towards the kitchen, mentally preparing himself to deal with a not so happy partner.

"Peter." Neal called out as he entered the kitchen. He saw Peter sitting at the table going over the case notes from the day before.

Peter looked up as Neal entered, he signaled for him to take a seat at the table.

The chair squeaked as Neal pulled it out to sit down. "Find anything new?"

"Not really." Peter blew out a breath and then brought his hand up to massage his forehead. "I keep looking at the financial statements for Mr. Lethan." He slid them across the table to Neal.

Neal glanced at them, but he had already read them the day before. "He doesn't owe any substantial amount of money."

"No." Peter slid more papers across the table to Neal. "I had Jones email those to me last night."

Neal smiled. "Do you ever stop working?"

Peter rolled his eyes. "Those are financial papers for Mr. Lethan's brother, Andrew. It would seem that Andrew Lethan owes the IRS a great deal of money in back taxes."

Neal's eyebrows rose in understanding. "So, we need to pay Andew Lethan a visit."

Peter gathered the papers off the table and put them into the folder. "Yes, we do."

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Elizabeth was just getting ready to leave for lunch when her office phone rang. "This is Elizabeth, may I help you?"

"El, its Nancy."

Elizabeth smiled, "Hi, Nancy. Is it too soon to hope that you've found something on Peter's brother?"

Nancy laughed. "I'm not that good." Elizabeth could hear the sound of papers shuffling in the background. "I was able to locate the last known address of Peter's family about the time that picture was taken."

Elizabeth eagerly picked up a pencil and a notepad. "It's more than what I had. What do you have for an address?"

Elizabeth quickly wrote down the address Nancy gave her. "Thank you. Hopefully, this will give me some answers."

"I hope so too, dear." Nancy cleared her throat. "I'm afraid there's more."

"What?" Elizabeth asked hesitantly.

"You said Peter's mother's name was Susan Dean, right?"

"That's right."

Nancy took a deep breath. "The house was listed under her name. The records I found stated that she was married to Arthur Dean and had two sons; Paul Dean and Peter Miller."

"Miller?" Elizabeth asked the shock evident in her voice.

"Yes, and after 1981 there is no records of anyone in that family, except for Arthur Dean who died in jail in 1985."

"Wow." Elizabeth laid a hand over her face, the shock evident in her words. "I had no idea."

"Yeah." Nancy gave her friend a moment to digest the information. "I've located a Peter and Susan Burke after that date, but no one else."

"I just." Elizabeth had to stop to regain control of her emotions. "I knew Peter's childhood wasn't great, but I had no idea."

"You and Peter have been friends of mine for a very long time, El." Nancy paused for a second."I just want to reassure you that whatever I find, it will stay with me, and if you want me to stop searching now, I will."

A tear slid down Elizabeth's cheek, and for a moment she thought about stopping her search, but then she thought about the heartbreak she saw on her husband's face that morning and knew it was worth the risk. "Keep going, Nancy."

"Ok. I'll let you know what I find."

"Thanks, Nancy, take care."

Elizabeth hung up the phone and stared at the address she had written down. She looked at the time and decided she could afford to take a little longer lunch than usual.

Twenty-five minutes later found her pulling into the driveway of a little blue house with an old porch swing out front. There were no cars in the driveway and the house looked abandoned.

She walked up the pathway leading to the house; she noticed that the grass had just been recently mowed. More importantly, there was a sign on the door that read, "No Trespassing."

She tried to look in through the doorway but there was curtains blocking her view of the inside.

"Can I help you, Ma'am?"

Elizabeth jumped as an old man came into view from the corner of the house.

"Do you live here?"

The older man shook his head as he came to stand in front of the porch. "I live next door." He pointed to the grey house a little ways down the road. "Nobody lives here, so if you're looking to sell something you're out of luck."

"Oh, no." Elizabeth smiled as she walked down the steps. "My name is Elizabeth Burke." She reached a hand out to the man in front of her.

"Daniel Richter." He said as he took her hand and shook it gently.

"Well young lady." He removed his hat and scratched his balding head. "Now that I know your name can I ask why you're peaking into windows of abandoned houses?"

Elizabeth shrugged. "Looking for answers, I guess."

"Hmm." Daniel nodded. "Well I've lived next door here for the past fifty years; maybe I can be of some assistance."

Elizabeth ducked when a few rain drops fell from the sky, "Maybe we could discuss this on the porch?"

Daniel nodded, gesturing towards the stairs. "After you."

They both took a seat on the wooden swing as the rain came down at a steady pace.

"My husband, Peter Burke, used to live here when he was growing up."

Daniel shook his head, "I don't recall any Burke's living here."

Elizabeth shook her head and immediately corrected herself. "No, I guess not. My husband's last name was Miller, but the family name was Dean."

Daniel stared off into the distance for a moment. "Peter and Paul?"

Elizabeth smiled. "You remember them?"

Daniel nodded. "Very nice boys, they lived next door for several years." Daniel laughed. "That Paul was a very energetic little boy; he always had that older brother of his chasing after him."

Elizabeth laughed, an image coming to mind of Peter always getting Neal out of some mischief or another. She could definitely see him doing that with a little brother.

"Can you tell me what happened to them?"

Daniel shrugged. "Don't rightly know." Lightning picked that moment to flash across the sky, the rain started to fall a little heavier. "I can tell you that their parents fought a lot. I remember I came home late one night from work, and I could hear screaming from over here." Daniel paused as if lost in thought. "The porch light was on." He pointed to the light above them. "And I could see the mother dragging the oldest boy off the porch, and basically shoving him into their car."

"Then what happened?"

"The little boy came running out after them, screaming for Bubba." He placed a hand over his chest. "Just about broke my heart."

After a moment of silence he cleared his throat. "Anyways, the next morning I saw Paul and his father drive off in their truck and no one ever came back."

Daniel looked towards the sky as it started to lighten up. "About a month later the Sheriff came out and changed the locks on the house, and not long after that the bank took it in foreclosure."

"Good grief." Elizabeth wiped a few stray tears off her cheek. "Who owns this place now? Surely someone has owned it since."

Daniel smiled. "I don't really know."

"It's been empty for about five years. I got a call one day from someone who asked me to take care of the place, my grandson comes over a couple times a month and mows the yard, and once a month I receive a check in the mail from some anonymous person."

Daniel stood up as the rain seemed to finally stop. "I need to be getting back to my place." He offered a hand to help Elizabeth up. "I hope I've answered your questions."

"You certainly have. Thank you." Elizabeth shook his hand again.

They made their way down the steps and towards the driveway.

"You tell that Peter to stop by and see me sometime."

"I will."

Daniel lightly grabbed onto Elizabeth's arm. "Whatever happened to Paul?"

A sad smile graced Elizabeth's face. "That's what I'm trying to figure out."

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

"My parents left us their house, Agent Burke." Andrew Lethan explained to Peter and Neal as his wife poured them more coffee.

"It's completely paid off, and we're going to sell it." Andrew shrugged.

"It'll give you more than enough to pay off what you owe in taxes." Neal finished.

"And start somewhere new." Mrs. Lethan added with a smile.

Peter looked at Neal and then back to Andrew. "I'm sorry we had to bother you with this, Mr. Lethan."

"I understand." Andrew shook their hands. "I'm sorry we couldn't be of more help."

Peter and Neal nodded and excused themselves.

Peter's phone rang as soon as they were outside, "Jones, did you get the security footage from the museum?"

"I did and you'll never believe who was visiting the museum the same day the painting went missing."

"You've got to be kidding." Peter pulled the phone from his ear and leveled a glare at Neal. "Something you forgot to tell me, Caffrey."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thanks to my beta Pikeru's Angel. She made this chapter look really nice and then I went in and changed everything. : ) So, all mistakes are my own. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own White Collar

()()()()()()()()()()

"I didn't take the painting, Peter." Neal said in an irritated tone.

"Alright then." Peter said, taking a seat behind his desk. "What were you doing there?"

"I told you," Neal's eyes flickered towards the floor and then back towards Peter. "I used to go to that museum with my mother." He sighed. "She loved that painting."

"I can understand the sentimentality, Neal." Peter typed in his password to unlock his computer. "But that gives you motive to take the painting."

Neal leaned forward in his chair. "You really believe that?" He asked Peter quietly.

Without hesitating Peter shook his head. "No, I don't."

Peter turned his gaze towards his computer as he searched through his email. "We need to find a solid lead in this case, because if we don't."

With a roll of his eyes Neal finished Peter's statement. "I could go back to prison."

Peter pointed a finger at Neal. "It's not funny. There are certain _Agents_ that would throw you back in there for even the littlest thing, Neal."

Neal chewed on his bottom lip for a moment before giving Peter a wide grin. "They'd have to catch me first."

Peter frowned and pointed a finger at Neal. "Don't start." He slid some papers across the desk to Neal. "Look through these and try and find us another lead."

They were silent a few minutes before Peter looked up at Neal. "Whatever happened to your mother?"

Neal gave him a confused look. "All those years chasing me and you never came across that information?"

Peter shrugged, looking slightly guilty.

Neal, seeing Peter's indecision, motioned for him to go ahead. "What did you find, Peter?"

"Not much." Peter shrugged and leaned back in his chair, the paperwork momentarily forgotten. "You didn't even exist before the age of seven." His gaze locked onto Neal's.

Neal smirked. "I didn't exist?"

"You know what I mean. There was no record of Neal Caffrey before the age of seven." Peter drummed his fingers on the desk. "It's like you appeared out of thin air."

Neal's gaze slid towards the window as a long lost memory crept back to him.

_A seven year old little boy was holding on to his grandmother's hand as they walked to her car._

"_Come along, Neal."_

_The little boy stopped, causing the older woman to stop also. "My name's Paul." _

_The older woman shook her head. "Not anymore." She tugged on his hand and they continued walking again. Paul opened the door to the backseat and climbed in behind the older woman, "Grandma?"_

_The woman turned in her seat, "Yes, honey?"_

"_Did your name change too?" Paul reached over and grabbed the seatbelt and clicked it into place._

_She smiled as she turned around in her seat and started the car. "Yes, it did." She met his gaze in the rearview mirror. "But you can still call me, grandma."_

_Paul smiled._

_They pulled out of the driveway and Paul watched his grandma's house disappear behind them. "How's dad going to find us?"_

"_He's not." She reached an arm back and patted Paul's knee lightly._

_Paul sighed and stared out the window as the buildings passed by. "Good."_

"You with me, Caffrey?" Peter passed his hand in front of Neal's face.

Neal nodded, "Yeah. I guess you could say that I appeared out of nowhere." He brought a hand up and rubbed it across his mouth several times. "And I have no idea what happened to my mother, she took off when I was younger." His jaw tightened and the bitterness was obvious in his voice.

Peter's eyes widened, but before he was able to question Neal on that subject he was interrupted by a knock at his door.

Jones stuck his head in. "We need you both in the conference room, we were able to spot something on the security tape."

Peter watched Jones leave before standing up himself. "Let's go."

()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Mozzie jogged up the steps leading to the Burke residence. He usually didn't come here without Neal but this was a... unique occasion. He knocked several times and didn't receive an answer; he turned to leave when Elizabeth's vehicle pulled up out front.

Elizabeth stepped out of the car and eyed Mozzie. "Peter and Neal are working late at the office if you're here to see them." She came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs.

"I didn't come here to talk to the Suit or to Neal." He fidgeted uncomfortably for a moment. "I actually came here to speak with you."

Elizabeth easily ignored the name Mozzie used for her husband, having become adjusted to Mozzie's somewhat dislike for government officials.

"_It's just, he has trust issues."_ She smiled as she remembered Neal trying to explain Mozzie's uniqueness.

She walked up the steps to stand beside him and unlocked the door and waved him inside. "Come on in."

Mozzie hesitated. "I'd prefer to walk." He pointed down the street.

Elizabeth looked to the end of the street where a taxi was waiting. She smiled at the man next to her, "I'm guessing this will be a short conversation?"

"Yes, it will."

They had only taken a few steps when Mozzie spoke up. "A few years ago before Neal went to prison he bought a house, and I've been checking on that house for him when I get a chance."

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows, shocked at the knowledge that Neal owned a house. "He lives at June's because the house is outside of his two mile radius?"

"That's correct." Mozzie took off his glasses and wiped them on his shirt.

She shook her head. "What's Neal owning a house have to do with me, Mozzie?"

"I saw you there today."

Elizabeth stopped walking and stared at Mozzie. "The little blue house I was at today?"

"Yes." Mozzie replied, slightly irritated. "Does the Suit have you checking up on Neal?"

"Absolutely not."

They had reached the taxi and Mozzie opened the door and placed one foot inside. "Why were you at that house?"

Elizabeth crossed her arms and stared defiantly back at Neal's friend. "Why did Neal buy that house?"

Mozzie smiled as he took a seat in the cab, closed the door and rolled down the window. " I really don't care why you were at that house, as long as it has nothing to do with Neal."

"It didn't."

"Good." Mozzie rolled up the window and Elizabeth watched as the taxi pulled away and disappeared around the corner.

She shook her head. "But it does now."

()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Jones rewound the tape for the second time and then stopped it suddenly. "Right there." He pointed to a spot on the screen.

"What is that?" Peter asked.

Neal leaned back in his chair. It's a barely perceptible indication that the tape has been tampered with."

"Yes." Jones said giving Neal an approving smile. "This little line." He pointed to the fuzzy, static line at the side of the screen. "Shows us that the tape has been messed with in some way, it's probably stuck on some kind of loop."

Peter nodded. "Just long enough for someone to get in grab the painting and get out without being seen."

Peter looked at Neal. "I think we need to have another chat with the security guard."

()()()

They walked into the museum where they were immediately met by Mr. Lethan. "Agent Jones let me know you were on your way."

Peter nodded. "We need to speak to your night security guard." He glanced down at the paper he was holding. "Allen Rosefield."

A grim look crossed Mr. Lethan's face. "Follow me."

They followed him down a long hallway and into his office. "Have a seat." Mr. Lethan motioned towards the two chairs in front of his desk before taking a seat of his own and typing away into his computer, a moment later a piece of paper was being printed off.

Mr. Lethan grabbed the paper and handed it to Peter. "Allen called in sick last night, and is an hour late for his shift tonight.

"You'll find his address on the paper."

"You do background checks on all of your employees, correct?" Neal asked.

"That's correct." Mr. Lethan looked from Neal to Peter. "And Mr. Rosefield checked out." He pointed to the paper, "Everything is on that paper."

Peter reached across the desk and shook Mr. Lethan's hand. "Thank you for your time."

Mr. Lethan nodded and watched the two men leave his office and close the door behind them. He retook his seat and picked up the telephone and quickly dialed. "Yeah, they're on their way."


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own White Collar.

Thanks for your patience, this chapter did not have a beta, so all mistakes are mine. In good news, there is only one chapter left and it's already written, so it should be up in a few days : )

()()()()()()()()()

As soon as Peter turned the car onto the highway to head towards Rosefield's house his cell phone rang. He smiled as he read the caller ID. "Hey, pretty lady."

"Hi." Elizabeth replied. "Are you coming home soon?"

Peter glanced at the clock on the dashboard. "We just got a break in the case, so probably not for a few hours." He frowned when he heard the sigh from the other end of the line. "Everything alright, El?"

Neal turned a concerned looked towards Peter.

"Yeah, I just really need to talk to you about something."

Peter reached over and turned the radio down. "Do you want me to stop home?"

"No." He could hear the hesitation in her voice. "No, it can wait."

"Are you sure?"

She laughed. "Yes, it's nothing life threatening. Is Neal with you?"

"Yes." Peter replied as he glanced towards Neal.

"Good, bring him with you."

"Okay." Peter paused for a moment. "If you're sure everything is fine, I'll see you in a few hours."

Peter nodded. "Yes, with Neal."

Peter shrugged when Neal gave him a confused look. "Alright, I'll see you soon, bye." Peter hung up the phone and gave Neal an annoyed look, "I have no idea."

Neal raised his eyebrows in obvious surrender and then pointed to a sign further up the road. "Here's our exit."

They pulled off the highway and onto a side road, "What's the house number?" Peter asked as they drove by the row of mailboxes.

"3724."

"There." Neal shouted and pointed towards a house on the corner. "That green house."

Peter slowed the car and turned into the driveway. "I don't see a vehicle."

There was no garage and the house appeared to be empty. Both men stepped out of the vehicle and walked towards the front of the house. Peter jogged up the steps, knocked on the door and waited for an answer, he was about to knock again when Neal grabbed his arm and jerked his head towards the living room window. "I just saw someone pass by the window." He whispered to Peter.

With his weapon now drawn Peter once again knocked on the door. "FBI! Open up, Mr. Rosefield."

Neal caught another glimpse of something through a slit in the curtains and ran towards Peter. "Watch out, Peter!" He tackled his partner to the ground just as a blast echoed through the quietness, and the old wooden door in front of them exploded and sent shards of wood flying in every direction.

Peter pushed Neal off of him as he hastily climbed to his feet, his ears still ringing from the shotgun blast as he tried desperately to locate Rosefield. What was left of the front door was thrown open and Peter came face to face with the former museum security guard and a shotgun pointed right at him, without taking the time to think he pulled the trigger on his weapon and watched as the other man fell to the ground.

With his gun aimed at the unmoving form of Allen Rosefield, Peter kicked the shotgun to the side, bent down and placed his fingers against the other mans neck and made sure he wouldn't be getting back up again. "He's dead, Neal."

When Peter got no response he turned towards the last spot he had seen his partner. "Neal?" His eyes caught on the younger man who was lying unmoving on the other side of the porch. He hurried to his side and dropped to his knees, "Neal?"

There was blood streaming down the side of Neal's face and Peter breathed out a sigh of relief when he didn't find any other injuries. He tapped the side of Neal's face, "Come on, Neal."

"P'ter?" Neal brought a hand up to his eyes and rubbed at them as pain filled eyes opened and peered up at the older man.

Peter nodded after a moment. "How are you feeling?"

"A little like I got hit in the head." He reached up to touch the area, but Peter slapped his hand away. Neal did his best to glare at Peter through squinted, pain filled eyes. "What happened?"

Peter tilted his head to the side and watched as Neal's gaze slowly worked its way to the still form of Rosefield.

Neal sucked in a sharp breath. "Is he?"

"Yeah." Peter nodded. "He's dead."

There were sirens in the distance, distracting both men from the scene before them. "And that would be back up."

"Good." Neal reached out a hand to Peter. "Help me up."

Peter reached a hand out but instead of helping Neal up, he pushed him back down. "You need to get checked out."

Neal sighed, his annoyance obvious. "I'm fine." He looked towards the body laying a few feet away from them. "But, he's not and I'm kind of tired of sharing the porch with him."

A grimace crossed Peter's face. "Right." He reached a hand out to Neal and pulled him to his feet, placing an arm around his back when he stumbled. "You alright?"

Neal looked to his left. "Fine."

"Uh, I'm over here." Peter snapped his fingers in front of Neal's face.

Neal jerked his head to the right. "I think I'm seeing two of you."

"Noooo." Peter replied sarcastically and then grabbed onto Neal's arm. "Let's go."

They walked down the stairs as the first ambulance pulled up, followed closely by Jones and several other agents.

Jones approached them. "Rosefield?" He asked nodding towards the porch behind them.

"Yep." Peter nodded. "I'll need you to search the house for the painting."

"That's fine." He pointed towards Neal who was starting to lean pretty heavily on Peter. "He alright?"

Neal made an obvious effort to straighten up. "I'm fine."

"He needs an EMT."

"Peter." Neal groaned.

"It's this." Peter nodded towards the ambulance. "Or the hospital, Neal."

"Fine."

Jones laughed. "I'm going to check out the house, I'll catch up with you two later."

"Keep me informed." Peter yelled at Jones as the other man walked towards the house with several other agents.

A moment later Peter had Neal seated on the back of the ambulance as an EMT stitched up the gash on his forehead. "You really should go to the hospital and get checked out."

"You hear that, Neal?" Peter shot Neal an annoyed glare. "I'm not the only one who thinks you should go to the hospital."

Neal pointed at the middle aged man standing before him, a needle in one hand and gauze in the other. "It's their job to tell me that."

"You could have a concussion." The EMT continued.

"Wasn't it almost like Rosefield knew that we were coming?" Neal asked, desperately trying to change the subject.

Peter folded his arms and let Neal change the subject for the moment, mostly because he had been wondering the same thing. "It's possible, but how?"

"Mr. Lethan."

Peter's face lit up and he snapped his fingers. "Of course, that dirt bag was the only other person to know that we were coming here."

"Must have called him right after we left his office."

"You're good to go." The EMT put a few pieces of tape over the bandage now adorning Neal's forehead and patted him on the shoulder. "Take it easy."

"Let's go, Peter." Neal jumped up, grabbed onto the side of the ambulance until everything stopped spinning and then grinned at his partner.

"Where do you think you're going?" Peter asked his irritation obvious.

"After Lethan, I bet he's still at the museum and I'm guessing he's got the painting hidden somewhere nearby."

"And what makes you think I'm going to let you come along?" Peter crossed his arms and moved to stand in front of Neal, blocking his escape. "You're injured, remember?"

Neal looked to his right where Peter was standing. "I'm fine and I'm not even seeing double anymore."

Peter sighed and then tapped Neal on the shoulder. "Over here."

Neal jerked his head to the left. "I knew that." He sighed. "If you leave me behind Peter, I'll just find my own way there."

Peter hesitated for a moment and then relented. "That's what I'm afraid of." He turned around and started walking towards his vehicle. "Let's go." He yelled over his shoulder.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Peter and several other agents jogged up the steps of The Museum of Modern Art, he glanced back at Neal who was bringing up the rear before entering the building. Peter flipped his badge open and showed It to the lady at the front desk. "Is Mr. Lethan here?"

"He should be back in his office." She pointed down the hall that Neal and Peter had traveled down before.

Peter led the group through the door that read, 'Employees Only', and down the darkened hallway to the office at the end. Peter stopped and drew his weapon when the door to Mr. Lethan's office swung open and the older man stepped out into the hallway carrying a large black bag.

"FBI, Freeze!"

Mr. Lethan's head shot up and his eyes grew wide as they connected with Peter's, he dropped the bag and took off down the connecting hallway.

Peter jammed his weapon back into his holster, "Why do they always run?" He grumbled before taking off after the fleeing man. "Check that bag!" He yelled over his shoulder to the other agents.

Peter could see the emergency exit sign flashing at the end of the hallway and knew he needed to catch Lethan before the other man could reach the door, he grinned a moment later when a lady walked out of the restroom and bumped into Lethan causing the man to tumble to the ground.

"Get back in the room!" Peter yelled at the shocked woman, he pulled his weapon and aimed it at Lethan as he struggled to get to his feet. "I would stay down if I were you."

Lethan started laughing. "I never should have brought that idiot, Rosefield, into this."

Peter kneeled down and brought the other man's hands behind his back and handcuffed them together. "Yeah, maybe if you hadn't he'd still be alive."

The grin disappeared from Lethan's face as Peter checked his pockets for any kind of weapon. "Let's go, get up." Peter pulled back on his arms and waited as Lethan struggled to his feet.

"Was it worth it?" Peter asked as he walked the suddenly quiet man back towards the lobby.

Lethan snorted. "My mother's house should have been mine, but no she had to leave it to her golden boy and now he'll get the money that should have been mine."

Peter shook his head. "You are an idiot, and your mother was obviously a very smart person."

Peter led Lethan into the lobby and handed him off to another agent. "Did we get the painting?"

"Yes, safe and sound."

"Good." Peter took a quick glance around, trying to see through the crowd of FBI Agents and museum employees. "Have you seen Caffrey anywhere?"

The Agent smirked and pointed towards the front desk and the lady that Peter had spoken to earlier. Peter followed his gaze and then rolled his eyes, "Thank you."

Peter walked up and leaned against the desk. "It's good to see you're being well cared for, Neal."

Neal cringed and gave Peter an apologetic look. "I wasn't feeling too hot when I came in." He pointed to the pretty blonde next to him who just happened to have her hand lying on top of his. "And Amy here just happened to have an extra seat I could sit in."

Peter took in Neal's appearance and could tell that the younger man was fighting to stay upright. "We've got Lethan and the painting, you ready to get out of here?"

Neal sighed. "Back to the office?"

"No, I think the paperwork can wait until morning." He reached a hand out to help Neal up. "We have to head home and see what El wanted, remember?"

"Right." Neal stood up with Peter's assistance and shook Amy's hand goodbye.

As they walked through the doors Peter saw Neal unfold a piece of paper. "What's that?"

Neal smiled. "Amy's phone number."

Peter groaned. "Of course it is."


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own White Collar.

()()()()()()

"El?" Peter called out as they entered the door and walked through the entryway. "Must be upstairs." They walked into the kitchen and he helped Neal get settled at the table, "I'm going to go find, El. You going to be alright for a few minutes?"

Neal's head was pounding, he was slightly dizzy but he managed to smile at Peter and waived him away. "I'm good."

Peter eyed him for a couple of seconds before relenting and disappearing through the doorway, a second later Neal could hear him jogging up the stairs.

Neal sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying not to hit the bandage on his forehead. He glanced across the table at a box Elizabeth had laying out. He reached across and brought it closer to himself, brushed some of the dirt off the top and opened the lid to find a pile of old pictures inside. The picture on top was flipped over and his eyes crinkled in confusion as he read the names on the back, Peter and Paul.

"Must be Peter's brother." He glanced back towards the stairs to make sure he was still alone before reaching in and pulling the picture out. He flipped it over and stared at it in shock, he had seen this picture before, in fact he had the same one at home tucked away in his closet. He stood up from the chair he was sitting in and stumbled backwards until he came to a rest against the wall. "That's not possible."

His hand was shaking as he brought the picture up to look at again, he closed his eyes, but when he opened them his younger self and his older brother were staring back at him. His head turned towards the stairs when he heard Elizabeth laugh. "Peter." He whispered. He flipped the picture over again and lightly traced his fingers across the writing, "Peter and Paul." He choked out as a tear slid down his face. "No." He shook his head and made his way back into the entryway; he let the picture fall to the floor and took off out the front door, slamming it shut behind him.

"Neal?" Peter called out as he jogged down the stairs, Elizabeth hot on his heels.

"What's this?" Peter bent down and picked up the picture Neal had dropped and handed it to Elizabeth. "What's this picture doing out?"

"Oh, no." Elizabeth put a hand to her mouth, suddenly knowing exactly why Neal had left and shocked at what it meant.

"We need to talk." She grabbed Peter's arm and pulled him into the kitchen. "Sit."

"I don't need to sit, El."

"Trust me Peter." She pushed him into the chair. "You're going to want to sit down for this."

She sat across from him at the table. "About a week ago I asked Nancy to help me find your brother."

"What?" Peter's eyes were laced with anger as they stared in Elizabeth's direction.

"I was only trying to help, Peter." Elizabeth pleaded for his understanding.

Peter crossed his arms. "And what did she find that I couldn't after searching all these years?"

Elizabeth took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "She gave me the address to the house you grew up in."

Peter sat back in his chair, a pained expression on his face. "And what did you find there?"

"I found answers." She paused and looked at her husband. "And more questions."

"My past is full of questions and very little answers, El."

She reached across the table and took Peter's hand in her own. "I know, but I think I've found an answer to one of your biggest questions."

Peter scrunched his face up in confusion. "What's that?"

She slid the picture across the table to Peter, the one that Neal had been looking at earlier. "I found him." She tapped the picture a few times where Peter's brother was standing.

Peter's eyes grew wide. "That's impossible."

A tear slid down Elizabeth's cheek and she brushed it away. "Mozzie came to see me and wanted to know why I had been visiting the house that Neal owned." She held up a hand to keep Peter from asking another question. "Yes, Neal owns a house. He owns the house that you grew up in."

Peter shook his head, and then looked down at the picture again. "What are you trying to say, El?"

"I'm not completely sure." She sighed. "But I believe that Neal is your brother, Peter."

"It can't be."

"Believe what you want." She tugged the picture out of her husband's grasp and stared at it fondly. "But why does Neal just happen to own the same house you lived in as a child and why did Neal leave in such a hurry after looking at this picture?"

Peter was silent for several seconds, unable to find an answer to Elizabeth's questions. His phone started buzzing in his pocket; he flipped it open and brought it to his ear. "Burke."

Peter sighed and scrubbed a hand over his eyes. "How long ago?"

"Thank you. Keep me informed." He shut the phone and stared at Elizabeth. "Neal cut off his ankle monitor."

Peter ran a hand through his hair. "I have to find him before they do." He shrugged. "I have no idea where to look." His voice filled with emotion as he struggled to deal with the implications that Elizabeth had presented to him.

Elizabeth stood up from the table and grabbed Peter's arm. "Follow me." She stopped in front of the door and handed Peter the car keys and the picture that had started the whole event. "You'll find him, where you lost him."

Peter cocked his head to the side in confusion.

Elizabeth smiled and spoke again. "You'll find Paul, where you lost him."

Peter's eyes grew red and a lone tear slipped out of the corner of his eye, Elizabeth stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "Go find your brother." She whispered.

Peter nodded. "You're an amazing woman, El." He kissed her on the lips.

"I know." She grinned, "Now go." She pushed her husband towards the doorway.

Elizabeth turned back towards the kitchen just as the phone rang. "Hello?" She smiled as she heard the familiar voice on the other end. "Nancy, it's so good to hear from you." She paused as her friends voice filtered through from the other end. "I think we should meet for dinner, Nancy. I've got some interesting news to tell you also."

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Peter pulled into the driveway of the little blue house that he had lived in through his teenage years, the house he had only driven by twice since the day they had left. His heart started to race in his chest as he saw the lone figure sitting on the porch swing and he knew without a doubt that person was Neal.

He climbed out of the vehicle and approached the house slowly; Neal sat on the porch swing his head down and resting in the palm of his hand.

"You cut off your monitor." Peter inwardly cringed at his choice of opening conversation.

Neal slowly raised his head, his eye and the side of his face where the bandage wasn't covering already starting to bruise from where he had hit it earlier. He squinted towards Peter, his head aching as he stared out into the late afternoon sun. "So, where's the cavalry?"

"I told them I could handle it."

Peter walked a few steps closer to the house. "Can I come up?" He motioned towards the porch.

Neal slid over on the swing. "Sure."

The steps creaked as Peter stepped onto the porch. He made his way over to the swing, took a deep breath and sat down next to Neal.

"You left in a hurry." Peter said after a couple seconds of silence.

"Yep."

Neither person wanted to ask the question that had brought them here, but Peter knew it was inevitable, either Neal was his long lost brother or he wasn't. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the picture and handed it to Neal. "You know these people?"

Neal's hand trembled slightly as he took the picture from Peter and flipped it over. "Yeah, it says Peter and Paul." He handed the picture back to Peter.

Peter pushed Neal's hand away. "Take a closer look."

Neal shrugged his breath quickening as he looked at the two smiling kids in the photograph. "It's just two kids sitting on a porch, Peter."

"They're sitting on the porch of this house, Neal." He took the picture from Neal and ran his finger over it softly.

"And?" Neal turned his head away and looked out over the field and the neighbor's house down the road.

Peter sighed; Neal wasn't going to make this easy.

"And I think you know who they are."

Peter leaned back as Neal shot up from his seat on the swing, grabbing onto the railing for support as the world tipped around him. He reached over and grabbed the picture out of Peter's hand and pointed to the little boy, "This is me." He stared at Peter a dark look overtaking his features. "You tell me who this is, Peter."

The older man stood up from the swing, his heart thudding in his chest as he faced his long lost younger brother.

"It's me, Neal." The words were choked out and barely made it past his lips.

"I know." Neal spoke the words through clenched teeth.

The look on Neal's face turned to anger and Peter realized a second too late as Neal's fist connected with the side of his face, sending him sprawling across the porch.

Peter shook his head and rubbed his jaw, "You sure hit a lot harder then you did as a kid."

Neal squinted down at Peter, his head pounding as he leaned heavily against the railing. "How long have you known?"He absently wiped away a bead of sweat as it rolled down the side of his face.

"I just found out today, Neal." Peter pushed himself into a sitting position with a groan. "It was actually El who put all the pieces together."

"You bastard." Neal bent over and placed his hands on his knees for support as he took in deep breaths, the whole time staring Peter in the face.

"You told me you wouldn't leave." Neal's eyes rolled back and he pitched forward.

"Neal!" Peter managed to jump forward from his sitting position and just barely caught the other man before he cracked his head on the porch.

"You idiot."

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

_The bedroom door creaked open and Paul opened his tear filled eyes as his older brother walked into the room, closing the door behind him and shutting out the yelling between the two adults in the other room. _

_Peter took a seat on the edge of the bed, lightly placing his hand on the little boy's shoulders."It's going to be ok, Paul." _

_Paul sat up in bed and hugged the older boy. "Momma said." The little boy hiccupped and sniffled before continuing. "That she was going to leave."_

_Peter pulled his little brother close, "Nobody's going to leave, Paul."_

"_Promise?"_

_Peter's gaze drifted uncertainly around the room before settling back on his brother. "Yeah, I promise."_

"Mhhm." Neal groaned as his eyes became adjusted to the light shining down from the ceiling above him. He raised himself up on his elbows and wondered briefly how he had come to be lying on the couch in the living room.

"Peter?" He called out, but his only answer was the silence echoing around him.

Neal sat up and was relieved that the room wasn't spinning around him anymore as he wobbly pushed himself to his feet. He walked to the front door, turned on the porch light as the evening was quickly fading into night and could clearly see Peter's vehicle still parked in the driveway.

He jumped when a voice came from the direction of the porch swing. "Good to see you're still alive."

Neal snorted as he stepped out onto the porch. "How'd you get me inside?"

Peter scooted over to make room for the younger man on the swing. "I dragged you by your feet."

"You did not." Neal huffed as he took a seat next to Peter.

Peter laughed and shook his head, and then immediately sobered. "I didn't leave you because I wanted to Neal."

Neal nodded and took a deep breath. "I know."

"Do you?" Peter shot back. "Did you know that the day after we left I stole a car and drove back here for you?"

"We were already gone."

"I know." Peter stared out into the night, his mind replaying the memory of his younger self sitting in that same driveway for over an hour until he gave up and drove back to his mother.

"Where'd he take you, Neal?"

Neal sniffed and swallowed several times. "A couple different places before he finally dropped me off at grandma's house."

"I never met his mother." He turned his gaze towards his younger brother. "Was she good to you?"

"She was." Neal sighed. "Dad ended up in jail, grandma changed our names and then we disappeared."

Peter shook his head. "I'm so sorry, Neal."

"It wasn't your fault, Peter."

"I've been thinking about that night over and over again all these years, Neal." Peter ran a hand over his face. "I should have done something."

Neal turned to Peter. "You came back for me, Peter, that's all that matters."

"I was too late."

A tear ran down Neal's face as the memories from his childhood flooded back. "You might have been too late for Paul." He pointed a finger at his older brother's chest. "But, you saved Neal."

Peter felt a small piece of himself start to heal at his brother's words; he laid an arm across Neal's shoulders and pulled the younger man close. "Thanks Buddy."

"She didn't want to leave you, Neal."

Neal quickly raised a hand to stop Peter from talking anymore. "I don't want to talk about her right now." His jaw was set and determined. "I just want to keep the few good memories I have of her, just for a little while longer." He explained as he turned a pleading look towards Peter.

A sad look crossed Peter's face before he nodded. "I understand."

Peter drew in a breath and stretched his arms out before him. "We should be getting back before Elizabeth starts to worry."

Neal nodded and then yawned, the day's events finally starting to catch up to him. Peter smiled and slapped him on the back. "Are you staying the night?"

"Sure." Neal said as Peter stood up and offered him a hand.

"Good." Peter laughed. "Because once El sees your face, she isn't going to let you leave."

Peter smiled as Neal groaned. "Go get in the car, I'll turn off the lights and lock up."

"Thanks." An exhausted Neal mumbled as he walked down the porch steps and in the direction of Peter's vehicle.

The older man stepped into the house and rested his hand against the light switch as he gazed around the room.

_A younger Peter was sitting on the couch when his mom and step dad came home from the hospital, carrying his little brother._

_His mother sat down on the couch beside him, "Do you want to hold him, Peter."_

_He grinned and nodded eagerly._

_She laid the little bundle in Peter's arms. "Make sure you cradle his head."_

_Peter did as he was told and stared mesmerized at his little brother. "He's so little." _

_His mother grinned as she ran a finger down the side of Paul's face. "You're the big brother now, Peter, you need to protect your little brother."_

"_I will." He whispered._

Peter shook the memory away and flipped off the light, "I will protect him, and never again will he be alone."

He shut and locked the door behind him.

Neal climbed into the car, put his seatbelt on and close his eyes with a sigh.

"_Daddy if we leave how is momma and Peter going to find us?"_

_The older man chuckled. "They're not coming back, don't you get that Paul." _

_Paul shook his head. "Peter will come back, he promised."_

"_Peter doesn't care about you, neither of them do." Paul jumped back when the car door slammed shut._

"_You're wrong." The little boy said, hot tears streaming down his face. "Bubba will find me."_

Neal's eyes shot open when Peter got in next to him and shut the door. "Ready to go?"

Neal straightened in his seat and nodded. "I've been ready for a long time."


End file.
